


Kiss With A Fist

by IndigoNight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cathartic Crying, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild D/s, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoNight/pseuds/IndigoNight
Summary: “Undress,” Steve orders, resting his back against the door for just a second while he braces himself for what he’s about to do. He’s only done something like this a few times before; usually it was Bucky pulling him back into line and draining the pent up rage out of him after yet another back alley fist fight. But now Bucky needs him, and he’s damn well going to do whatever Bucky needs.*****In the aftermath of Azzano, Bucky is drowning in the pent up rage and fear that he can't let go of. Fortunately, Steve is there to help.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92
Collections: BBB Special Events





	Kiss With A Fist

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for the [Bucky Barnes Bingo](https://buckybarnesbingo.tumblr.com) Flash Bingo "Azzano" square.

_ Something’s wrong _ , Steve thinks with a sick twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Maybe she has a sister,” he tries, but Bucky doesn’t respond to the gentle barb. Bucky just finishes the rest of his drink in a gulp that’s a little too eager, holding the glass with a grip that’s a little too tight and a hand that shakes.

Without even thinking about it Steve reaches out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey-” he starts, but before his hand even makes contact Bucky jerks back in a way that’s almost a flinch and Steve immediately withdraws his hand.

He swallows, throat going tight. He’d noticed, of course he had, that Bucky’s been unusually quiet since they left the smoldering wreckage of the HYDRA factory, sullen and withdrawn. It’s understandable, naturally he’d need some time to deal with what had happened to him, but this… this is something more and Steve isn’t sure what to do with it but ignoring it isn’t an option.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, unable to hold back the concern that colors his voice.

Bucky’s silent for a moment, staring down into his empty glass broodingly. Then he sucks in a breath and sets the glass back down on the battered bartop with an unnecessarily loud clatter. “Nothing,” he mutters dismissively. Without waiting for Steve to respond, he pushes away from the bar and heads jerkily toward the door.

Steve chases after him, not about to let himself be brushed off like that. They emerge out into the cool London night and Bucky’s made it half a block down the street before Steve catches up with him and grabs his shoulder to pull him to a halt.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” Bucky snaps, whirling on Steve. With his enhanced reflexes, Steve sees the punch coming but he’s too surprised to react as Bucky’s knuckles impact hard with his jaw. His head jerks to the side but he feels far more confusion than pain; Bucky has never actually hit him before, not out of anger, no matter how much of a little shit he’d been.

They stand there frozen for a long minute, Bucky’s chest heaving and hands clenched into fists but face deathly pale as he stares Steve down.

Not about to be cowed, Steve spreads his hands in offering. “You want to take another swing?” he asks, “go ahead.”

Bucky glowers at him, eyes suspiciously bright in the glow of the street lamps, but without a word he turns on his heel and storms off again. Cursing mentally, Steve follows him, not letting Bucky get ahead of him this time. As soon as the chance arises, he grabs Bucky, unable to hold back anymore, and drags him bodily down a narrow side alley. He slams Bucky against the rough brick wall, catching both of Bucky’s hands in his own and pinning them above his head.

“Cut that out,” he snaps, their faces only inches apart as Bucky snarls and struggles against his hold.

“Fuck you,” Bucky spits back.

“Maybe later,” Steve retorts with a humorless smirk, absolutely refusing to back off. “But not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Bucky glowers at him, the muscles in his jaw ticcing, his chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow pants. “Got nothing to say,” he bites out finally. He’s gone still in Steve’s grip, but his entire body is practically quivering with barely contained tension and there’s a wild look in his eyes like a trapped animal.

Steve’s chest aches; he wants nothing more than to scoop Bucky up in his arms and hold him tight. Which gives him an idea. Carefully, he adjusts his grip and threads his fingers through Bucky’s. Slowly, telegraphing his movements so that Bucky has plenty of time to refuse if he wants to, he leans in and risks a deep, firm kiss.

Bucky makes a strangled sound, but his fingers squeeze around Steve’s and his whole body sags into Steve’s hold. Steve holds the kiss for a long as he dares before reluctantly pulling back just far enough to break the kiss but still rest their foreheads together, their breath mingling in the close air between them.

“Just let me help,” Steve whispers, his voice low and hoarse.

Bucky lets out a sound that definitely isn’t a laugh, rough and brittle in his throat as though it’s being dragged over broken glass. “ _ How _ ?”

Steve takes in a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself before pulling back to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Trust me?” he asks softly.

He can  _ hear _ Bucky swallow, watches him blink rapidly several times, feels his breath catch and stutter in his chest. Then slowly, jerkily, Bucky nods.

***

The room Steve has been assigned in the SSR headquarters is sparse and cramped, but it’s private and the door locks, which is all that Steve needs right now. He leads Bucky inside, securing the door behind them. Bucky hasn’t said a word since they left the alley, his body still tense and stiff, all coiled tension and silent desperation.

“Undress,” Steve orders, resting his back against the door for just a second while he braces himself for what he’s about to do. He’s only done something like this a few times before; usually it was Bucky pulling him back into line and draining the pent up rage out of him after yet another back alley fist fight. But now Bucky needs him, and he’s damn well going to do whatever Bucky needs.

He takes his time removing his own clothes, carefully folding his dress uniform and setting it aside, although he leaves on his undershirt and shorts for now. When he turns back around, Bucky hasn’t moved, standing stiff and frozen in the middle of the room, his eyes on the floor.

“Bucky?” he asks, worry flaring in his chest again. Slowly, Bucky lifts his gaze to meet Steve’s eyes and the bottom of Steve’s stomach drops out; he looks so fucking  _ lost _ , his deep blue eyes too wide and lower lip trapped between his teeth. Before he even realizes he’s moving Steve’s crossed the room and wrapped Bucky up tight in his arms, fingers tangling in Bucky’s hair as Steve holds his head against his shoulder. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s temple, knowing that tenderness isn’t what Bucky needs right now but unable to resist giving just a little bit of it all the same. “It’ll be okay,” he promises softly, the words little more than a breath into Bucky’s unkempt hair. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

Bucky shakes once and nods, staying still and pliant as Steve gently pushes away and starts stripping him down. Jacket, shirt, and undershirt hit the floor. Boots, socks, pants, and shorts each discarded in turn. After a moment of consideration, Steve carefully slips Bucky’s dog tags over his head and sets them aside; Bucky doesn’t need to be a soldier right now. Then Bucky is fully nude in front of him and Steve can’t help drinking in the sight hungrily like he always has. 

There are a handful of scraps and half healed bruises littered across Bucky’s body, but somehow not as many as Steve had expected after the way Bucky stumbled and clung to him on their way out of that factory. He runs his hands up Bucky arms, feeling muscles that are thicker than they had been before Bucky shipped out. Tracing his fingers down Bucky’s chest, he finds more pronounced ribs and a small, rough scar just above his right hip that hadn’t been there back in Brooklyn. 

Bucky holds still, tolerating Steve’s explorations, but he’s shivering slightly, quivering with barely contained energy. “Steve-” he starts, but he doesn’t seem to be able to find anything else to say, his fists clenching and releasing spasmodically. 

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, hoping to reassure him. Reluctantly forcing himself back to the task at hand, he leads Bucky over to the narrow cot that takes up most of the room. Sitting down on the edge of it, he gently guides Bucky into bending over his lap.

Bucky hesitates, muscles flexing and resisting for just a moment. Steve spreads his fingers across the small of his back, feeling the hesitation but then right behind it a shiver of anticipation. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Steve promises. “But I think this will help.”

Bucky lets out his breath in a rush and folds over like a marionette with its strings cut. Steve shifts around, settling Bucky so that they’re both as comfortable as possible, Bucky’s bare chest pressed against Steve’s thighs and his hands curling into fists in the blanket Steve’s sitting on. 

Steve gives him a moment to settle, running the palm of his broad hand up and down the length of Bucky’s back. Gradually a bit of the tension starts to leak out of Bucky, his head dropping between his shoulders as he waits. Shifting his hand down, Steve cups the smooth curve of Bucky’s ass, thumb stroking the soft, pale skin. Then, without warning, he lifts his hand and brings it back down with a sharp smack.

Bucky jumps in surprise, a low grunt escaping him before he cuts it off.

Keeping his other hand braced between Bucky’s shoulder blades, Steve’s careful to pay attention to every twitch and shift of Bucky’s body, alert for any signs of genuine distress. He lifts his hand again, bringing it down against Bucky’s other ass cheek. Fortunately, he’s had time to get used to this new body, to learn the limits of his own strength; he modulates his blows so that he doesn’t actually damage Bucky, but his slaps are hard and unforgiving, possibly harder than he was even capable of before.

Steve sets up a punishing rhythm, alternating cheeks and angles as he brings his hand down on Bucky’s smooth flesh again and again. Bucky buries his face in his own bicep, unable to keep himself from twisting and squirming against Steve’s grasp. Rapidly his pale skin is starting to turn pink, then red, darkening to purple in places. Bucky’s grunts and groans start to dissolve into choked cries.

Steve feels it when finally Bucky breaks. He brings his hand down with firm, merciless smacks twice in exactly the same spot and Bucky’s entire body shudders, his muffled shout breaking into a sob. Steve pauses, rubbing his palm over Bucky’s bruised ass in a motion that looks gentle but must be brutal against such battered skin, watching for Bucky to give the signal. But Bucky’s hands are still clenched into tight fists in the blanket, the muscles of his arms and shoulders taut even as his body trembles. So Steve starts up again, moving down to lay a few blows to the thick, quivering muscle of Bucky’s thighs and the sensitive crease beneath his ass.

Bucky sobs harder, his chest heaving with the force of it, teeth digging into the meat of his arm to muffle the sound. He isn’t squirming anymore. He flinches from the blows instinctively, muscles contracting uncontrollably and the force of Steve’s slaps shove him forward against Steve’s knees. He can feel Bucky’s cock thrust against his leg with each blow, and it’s half hard from the friction despite the pain; it’s not surprising, they’ve both gotten off on this sort of thing before, but that isn’t the point right now so Steve ignores it.

Finally, Bucky’s tears begin to taper off. His body goes limp, tension draining out of him and muscles finally relaxing. Steve gives him one last slap, wringing a nearly soundless scream from him, then stops. He gives Bucky a beat to process, then picks him up. He feels like practically nothing as Steve lifts him and pulls him against his chest. Bucky is limp and boneless, even when Steve eases him down to straddle his lap, Bucky’s own weight settling on his abused flesh.

Slowly, like it takes a great deal of effort, Bucky’s arms lift to curl around Steve’s neck, pressing his face into the meat of Steve’s shoulder. In turn, Steve wraps his arms firmly around Bucky’s back, holding him securely against his body.

Steve says nothing, just holding Bucky tight while Bucky clings to him and sniffles wetly. Unable to resist, he presses soft, soothing kisses into Bucky’s sweat damp hair, his hands rubbing in slow, reassuring circles.

“I can’t-” Bucky says eventually, voice rough and barely audible against Steve’s neck.

Steve’s heart sinks and he has to close his eyes, his arms flexing instinctively to hold Bucky closer, as he guesses what the end of that sentence is. He can’t blame Bucky, and in a way it’s a relief to think of Bucky safe at home back in Brooklyn; after everything he’s been through, Steve’s sure he’ll get an honorable discharge, maybe a medal if Bucky’s former cellmates tell the brass even a fraction of what they’ve told him former cellmates have told Steve. But he still can’t help feeling a little disappointed, a little disheartened at the idea of having to fight this war without Bucky at his side. “It’s okay,” Steve tells him, careful to keep his thoughts out of his voice.

But Bucky shakes his head, his own arms squeezing around Steve’s shoulders, blunt fingernails digging into Steve’s back through the thin fabric of his undershirt. “It’s like the world’s inside out,” he rasps. “I… I don’t know why I’m alive. I don’t know what they  _ did _ to me.” His shoulders heave and he lets out another sob, tears starting to soak into Steve’s shoulder. “I watched a man’s skin  _ melt _ , Steve. I-I can’t… I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it. And then there was that guy with a fucking  _ skull _ for a face. And… And  _ you _ -” Bucky’s voice cuts out like he can’t go on.

“Hey,” Steve says, unable to let that pass. Gently he forces Bucky back, cupping his face in both hands as he makes Bucky meet his eyes. “I’m right here,” he says, soft but firm, willing Bucky to believe him. He feels his lips tilt into a tiny, sad smile. “I’m still me.”

Bucky swallows hard. Practically his whole face is swollen and red, from his chewed up lips to his blotchy cheeks and damp eyes. Steve rubs his thumbs over those cheeks, feeling the rasp of stubble and wiping away drying tears. Bucky’s eyes fall closed for a moment, leaning into Steve’s touch like he doesn’t have the strength to hold his own head up. But then he seems to rally himself, eyes opening again and he gives Steve a long, searching look.

Steve tries to wait patiently, but that lost look is still lurking in the depth of Bucky’s eyes. “I still love you,” he adds softly, the pad of his thumb just barely ghosting over the corner of Bucky’s swollen lips. 

Bucky hesitates for a beat longer, then he surges forward and kisses Steve. It’s clumsy and awkward like their kisses haven’t been since they were teenagers, but Steve doesn’t care. He pulls Bucky against him and kisses back, their teeth clacking together in their rush. It’s rough and desperate and  _ perfect _ ; Steve wants to bury himself in this kiss and keep it forever.

Bucky’s hands slide up Steve’s neck, tangling in his hair and pulling a little. He manages to brace his feet on the floor, pushing up a little off of Steve’s lap so that he can get a better angle, pressing himself in closer. Steve opens his mouth willingly, sucking on Bucky’s tongue and tilting his head back accommodatingly. He groans low in his throat, cock quickly starting to twitch and fill in his shorts, caught up in the heady mix of sorrow and relief and fear and love that’s sweeping over him.

But before they can get any further, Bucky’s hands curl around Steve’s head to cup his face, and his fingers find the faint bruise on Steve’s cheek. Steve had barely even noticed it was there and he’s pretty sure it’ll be entirely gone by morning, but Bucky freezes, his back going stiff as he pulls back. “Oh god,” he says, “Fuck, Stevie, I  _ hit _ you.” He would have climbed entirely out of Steve’s lap if Steve hadn’t refused to let him, thick arms curled tight around Bucky’s body like steel bands.

“It’s okay,” Steve reassures quickly, still trying to chase Bucky’s lips. 

Bucky refuses, leaning back as far as he can in Steve’s hold, expression horrified. “I’m so sorry. Fuck! I can’t believe I did that.” His body is tightening again, the catharsis of his breakdown shattering.

“Hey, hey, no,” Steve pleads, hastily grabbing Bucky’s face again in a desperate attempt to calm him down. “I swear, I’m okay. It barely even left a mark.”

Bucky gives him a withering look. “That is not the point,” he snaps.

Steve sighs, dragging him in for a light, chaste kiss. He wants to tell Bucky that he doesn’t care, that he’d never hold it against him, but he knows that Bucky won’t hear that right now. So instead he holds Bucky’s gaze and says softly but firmly, “I forgive you.”

To Steve’s relief, that seems to do the trick. Bucky closes his eyes for a long minute, sucking in shaky breaths, but his body slowly goes loose again and he slumps back down against Steve’s chest. Smiling a little, Steve kisses the shell of Bucky’s ear, sliding his hands down Bucky’s back to cup his bruised ass. He gives it a little squeeze, making Bucky gasp and twitch and the heady mix of fading adrenalin and relief makes Steve laugh softly at the sound. “Besides,” he adds, letting his voice go low and husky, lips still pressed against Bucky’s ear, “I think I more than paid you back.”

Bucky huffs out a wet chuckle, nestling his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. His lips find the thick tendon there and he bites down, making Steve hiss and his hips jolt. Steve can feel Bucky smile against his skin, dragging his tongue over the same spot to soothe the sting.

“Jerk,” Steve mutters teasingly. “I should put you over my knee again, don’t think I won’t.”

That makes Bucky snort. He curls into Steve’s body like he wants to crawl inside of Steve’s chest, his hands starting to wander down the planes of Steve’s chest. “Not fair,” he complains, tugging at the hem of Steve’s undershirt.

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s all too happy to strip the shirt off and toss it aside. Then he grips Bucky’s thighs, wrapping them around his waist. “Hold on,” he warns. Bucky raises a confused eyebrow, but Steve just grins at him. When Bucky’s legs tighten around his waist he pushes himself up off of the bed in one smooth motion, Bucky clinging to his torso like a monkey while Steve shoves down his shorts and kicks them off.

“Show off,” Bucky accuses, despite the fact that his cock - which had flagged during their conversation, but has immediately perked back up - is twitching against Steve’s stomach and his cheeks are flushed.

Steve gives him a shit eating grin, taking the opportunity to twist around and dump Bucky down on the bed. He wastes no time climbing on top of Bucky, thrilled by his ability to cover Bucky’s entire body with his own. He presses in for a deep, dirty kiss, this time pushing his own tongue into Bucky’s mouth, savoring the taste of him and the sweet sound of his moans.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” he murmurs, peppering a trail of kisses along Bucky’s jaw and down his neck.

Bucky groans, his hips arching, instinctively seeking friction for his aching cock. “I want you in me,” he pants, hands clutching at Steve’s biceps. He’s already so wound up, sensitive and responsible after the ups and downs of the evening.

Steve nods, kissing Bucky once more and starting to pull away. Bucky clutches at him, not wanting to let go but Steve huffs a laugh, gently prying him loose. “I’ll be right back,” he promises. As quickly as he can, he hurries over to where he’d left his duffle on top of the locker at the foot of the bed and retrieves the oil that he’d thankful had the optimistic foresight to acquire. Hurrying back to the bed and his position on top of Bucky, he settles down and nudges Bucky’s legs apart. 

He takes a moment to brush the back of his knuckles against the swollen length of Bucky’s cock, making him twitch and whine. Unable to resist, Steve continues, cupping Bucky’s balls in his palm, alternately cradling and gently squeezing them until Bucky cries out and squirms. Bucky bends his knees, bracing his heels against the mattress to give himself better leverage as he arches his hips up; seizing the opportunity, Steve ducks his head down and nips lightly at the edge of a light purple bruise decorating the crease of Bucky’s ass. “Fuck!” Bucky hisses, muscles jumping reflexively and Steve is treated to the sight of his tight hole clenching.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Steve hums. He pours a generous amount of the oil onto his fingers then sets the bottle aside. With his free hand he easily pins Bucky’s hips down to the bed, keeping him still. “Been dreaming about this,” he admits, slowly rubbing one finger around the edges of Bucky’s hole, watching it tighten and quiver.

“Quit teasin’ and get on with it then,” Bucky grunts in frustration, but when Steve glances up his eyes are dancing.

“Pushy,” Steve chides, pinching the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh in retaliation and Bucky groans again. But Steve relents, carefully pushing the blunt tip of one finger into Bucky.

Bucky gasps and his whole body twitches, muscles clamping down around Steve’s finger; belatedly, Steve remembers that his hands are bigger now, his fingers thicker, and that Bucky probably wasn’t ready for that. “Sorry,” he says quickly, about to withdraw his finger but Bucky shakes his head, body relaxing again. Even more carefully, suddenly feeling awkward and self conscious in his bigger body, he eases his finger the rest of the way in. He takes his time, pausing to give Bucky time to adjust. He thrusts his finger in and out several times, waiting until he feels Bucky’s muscles fully relaxing around him before slowly pushing his second finger in.

It doesn’t take Bucky long to get impatient with the cautious pace. He moans, hips straining against Steve’s restraining hand, legs spreading wider in an effort to pull Steve in deeper. “Damnit!” he complains breathlessly.

“Almost there,” Steve promises, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s bent knee as he starts to ease a third finger in. He’s so hard it’s making him dizzy, the feeling of Bucky hot and tight around his fingers, the sight of Bucky’s lean, naked body stretched out on the bed in front of him, the quiet, panting moans that Bucky can’t restrain. He wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of Bucky and stay there forever.

“I need you  _ now _ ,” Bucky insists impatiently. “Need to feel you in me, feel you stretch me open.” He shudders and Steve catches just a slight edge of the lost desperation from earlier. It makes him pause, but he notes the way Bucky’s knuckles are clenched white in the blanket, the sharp lines of his neck as he thrusts his head back against the pillow. There’s a thick trail of pre-cum sliding down the length of his cock, which is flushed red and swollen with need.

Throat dry and head spinning with corresponding desire, Steve nods and withdraws his fingers. Bucky whines, the muscles around his hole fluttering unhappily at the sudden absence. Steve rubs a soothing circle on Bucky’s lower stomach, then grabs the oil again and quickly slicks up his own dick. He crawls back up Bucky’s body, trailing a line of kisses against Bucky’s skin as he goes. When he settles into position, he presses a deep, hungry kiss to Bucky’s mouth, swallowing his cries as he slowly, carefully pushes into him.

He’s unsettlingly aware of his strength, of his disproportionate size for a moment, and the horrifying thought of how badly he could hurt Bucky if he actually lost control flashes through his mind. But Bucky lifts his legs, wrapping them around Steve’s waist and squeezing, pulling him closer and thrusting down to draw Steve all the way into himself.

“Ah fuck,” Steve pants, collapsing down onto his elbows, chest dropping to Bucky’s. “You feel so good. I love you so much. Love your ass.” Distantly he’s aware that he’s rambling. He bottoms out, his thighs pressing up against Bucky’s sore ass, and just stays there, forehead resting against Bucky’s shoulder and eyes squeezing shut as he struggles to keep himself under control.

“I’ll love you more when you start fuckin’ moving.” Bucky squirms beneath him, trying helplessly to fuck himself on Steve’s cock. “Come on, babe. Give it to me. Show me how strong you are now.” 

Something in Bucky’s tone makes Steve jerk his head up. The way his cock throbs and twitches in response to Bucky’s words is clear, but the warm fluttering that starts up in the pit of his stomach takes longer to process. Distractedly, he remembers Bucky’s dazed questions about the serum as they’d stumbled through the HYDRA factory, remembers Bucky’s panic over how everything’s changed, his accusatory tone. In fairness, Steve’s had months to get used to his new body; but the change had been sprung on Bucky out of nowhere at probably the worst possible time. No wonder Bucky’s been struggling with it. 

But then he figures it out, that tone in Bucky’s voice; Bucky’s  _ trying _ . It may take him a bit to get used to it, to become fully comfortable with the ways Steve’s changed, but he’s willing to make the effort and that means more than Steve knows how to deal with.

He kisses Bucky again and again, helpless and needy as he starts to thrust. He still takes it easy, still clings to a tight control, but soon he falls into a fast, punishing rhythm. Bucky’s legs stay tight around him, hips rising to meet each of Steve’s thrusts. Steve thrusts deeply, his thighs slapping against Bucky’s bruised ass, making him writhe and moan all the more.

Bucky’s arms wrap around him as tightly as his legs, his fingers digging into the meat of Steve’s back. Bucky throws his neck back, crying out hoarsely as Steve adjusts his angle and hits the sweet spot inside of him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Steve bends his head to suck and lick at that long, pale column.

“Steve!” Bucky pants, eyes closing and breath stuttering.

“I’ve got you, Buck,” Steve answers, just as breathless. He thrusts his hips forward, slamming into that spot again. “Come for me,” he orders, “I want to see it. I want to watch you fall apart, split open by my cock.”

Bucky stops breathing, his whole body convulsing. Steve speeds up, losing his rhythm as he buries himself deeply in Bucky over and over, making sure he hits Bucky’s sweet spot each time. He can see Bucky’s orgasm rising in the flush on Bucky’s face, watches as Bucky’s mouth falls open in a silent scream. His body jerks once more and a stream of hot cum splashes onto Steve’s stomach.

The sight drags Steve brutally over the edge after him, his own load shooting deep into Bucky’s body, his vision graying out around the edges with the force of it as it sweeps over him.

When it ends, he collapses bonelessly on top of Bucky, both of them sweaty and breathless. They stay that way for several minutes, exchanging lazy, tired kisses while their heart rates return to normal and they catch their breaths. Steve barely even realizes that he’s still inside of Bucky until he shifts and his softened cock slips out of him; Bucky groans and shivers at the sensation, sensitive and on the edge of overstimulation.

When he’s finally sure that his legs will support him, Steve reluctantly pushes himself to his feet. He digs a washcloth and his canteen out of his bag before returning to the bed. Bucky is still loose and limp, his eyes heavy lidded, but he’s shivering a little without Steve’s warm body covering him. Hastily climbing back into the bed, Steve pulls Bucky back into his arms. Gently he uses the cloth to clean off first Bucky then himself, then holds the canteen to Bucky’s lips so that he can drink.

He takes his time, making sure that Bucky is thoroughly cared for before settling down. Carefully he lifts Bucky, shifting around so that they’re both nestled under the blanket and Bucky is lying mostly on top of him in the narrow cot.

“Thank you,” Bucky says quietly, resting his cheek tiredly on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, wishing it was possible to pull Bucky closer. “Any time. Do you feel better?” A part of him hesitates to ask the question; on the one hand, the lack of desperate tension in Bucky’s body is evidence that he does, but on the other hand Steve is all too aware that this hasn’t really fixed anything.

Regardless, Bucky nods, the stubble on his cheek scraping slightly against Steve’s bare chest. Absently, Bucky walks his fingers across Steve’s abs, the touch slow and lingering as they both watch. “I guess this isn’t so bad,” he admits, a playful smile touching his lips.

Steve huffs, which makes the muscles of his stomach jump under Bucky’s fingers. “Yeah?” he teases, wiggling an eyebrow. Bucky hums, continuing his absent exploration and a comfortable silence falls over them. Steve also takes the opportunity to savor the feeling of Bucky’s skin, running his own hand up and down Bucky’s back. But as his fingers dip toward the curve of Bucky’s ass he pauses, biting his lip. “Are you okay?” he asks, “I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“I’m great.” Bucky tilts his head up and kisses him. It’s such a relief to see Bucky smile again without any trace of bitterness, without that shadow lurking behind his eyes. Steve doesn’t kid himself, he’s sure that whatever Bucky’s struggling with will rear its head again, but at least for a little while Bucky can feel safe and relaxed. 

Bucky stretches, a slow roll from his toes all the way up the length of his body. He yawns and tucks himself closer against Steve, his eyes sliding closed. “I love you,” he murmurs as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
